Mission: Drabbles
by VescaWithoutWings
Summary: A collection of drabbles, KakaIru, Sasunaru NEW CHAPTER 7: KakaIru AU as if ch.459 had never happened, Angst, Death and Sadness
1. Kakashi's Reports

Mission: Drabbles

Kakashi's Reports

It had started slowly; it was almost an imperceptible habit, but when a step was taken back Kakashi could finally see the pattern. He regularly blamed it on Naruto and would have taken it up with the young blond, but when he thought about it the habit really wasn't that bad at all even if now it was becoming more of an obsession than a simple habit.

Kakashi could pinpoint the first time he'd stepped over the line. He'd watched that ever present smile turn flat as the familiar chuunin had waved away the smoke from his transportation jutsu. It was with great pleasure that Kakashi remembered the ensuing argument complete with insane questions offered by the watching children as the jounin turned in his mission report.

Kakashi knew he had still been a bit fuzzy in the head that day from the very mission he had been reporting about. He had walked into the office and not seen the familiar face that Naruto had always demanded they wait in line for. It was a routine, get the mission, finish the mission, wait in line to turn the mission in, receive a happy smile and a friendly 'thank you' from Iruka, go home and sleep. His muzzy brain had decided he needed to keep to that routine even if his genin team weren't present, and so the search and the habit had begun.

Over the past year it had escalated. No longer could the silver haired jounin blame it on a head wound. He had consciously made the decision to seek out the chuunin while he was eating ramen, training, and even late at night while he was sleeping. He had made an effort not to be too intrusive, though and had once waited patiently while Iruka finished showering. That time had not ended in a friendly smile and a pleasant 'thank you', but Kakashi didn't mind since he'd gotten quite a nice eyeful of bare skin.

So it was nearly natural now that Kakashi would seek him out. He had finished a mission and his report was burning a hole in his vest pocket. The trees flashed by and his kunai were already in hand as he sensed Iruka not too far away. It only took a minute, possibly less than, for the Copy-nin to settle beside his bleeding comrade and grin. The wounds were superficial; Iruka was good at dodging fatal blows.

"Thank you," Iruka said while struggling to sit upright. "I didn't know if I was going to be able to get out of the way fast enough again." He scowled at his torn shirt then turned to Kakashi. "You look upset. I'm really alright, its just a few scratches thanks to you."

"You messed up the order," Kakashi muttered while rummaging through his many pockets."

"What?"

"The order," Kakashi repeated and pulled out his formerly neatly folded report. "First I hand in my report, then you smile and say thank you." He offered the sheet of paper to the still bleeding chuunin. "Do it right."

Iruka felt faint. Was it possible to actual know the moment you go crazy? He tried to stay calm as he stood and brushed some dirt off his pants. "So, you didn't come out here because of the message I sent ahead about pursuers?"

"Not me," Kakashi answered quickly. "But they did." He pointed to two ANBU who now patiently waited just outside the ring of carnage. One of them waved.

"You're here to hand in your mission report," Iruka confirmed as Kakashi once again offered the familiar looking sheet to him. The chuunin looked around and sighed heavily as he held out his hand. The Copy-nin happily stood and placed the report on the open palm where it was quickly crushed by a fist that immediately rushed towards his jaw.

"Thank you for your hard work," Iruka growled just before he began stomping his way towards home.

Kakashi took a moment to gather his thoughts before looking at the one ANBU that hadn't followed Iruka. "That was different," he announced to his quiet companion who he could tell was doing his best not to laugh.

It took only one mission for Kakashi to see the effects of his revelation to Iruka. The chuunin was where he was supposed to be and, as normal, had a line waiting to turn their mission reports in to him. Once Kakashi had been noticed as having entered the room the queue immediately cleared leaving him to happily turn in his report. He was able to recognize several emotions run across that familiar scarred face as Iruka looked up to see him holding a rather worse for wear report in hand; confusion, annoyance, anger, confusion again and finally acceptance.

"Thank you, Kakashi, for all your hard work."

owari

A/N: just a quick drabble I had to type up before I lost it XD Please enjoy.


	2. The Umino who Watches

The Umino who Watches

Screams were all around her as she lay there watching. Above her the sounds of the Kyuubi's fury echoed through the skies, but her eyes were fixed in one direction.

She hadn't recognized the face that had taken her son away; hadn't seen the color of his eyes or hair, but she had seen that leaf on his headband and knew that the future of Konoha would be preserved.

Behind her there was no sound from the only other person she wanted to see. His voice had gone silent with the same attack that had her pinned to the ground unable to move. Her hands could feel him, though, and she had been keeping track as the flesh of his wrist began to grow colder.

Towards the village, towards her son there was only smoke thick enough to disappear into, and she lay there and watched them do so. She could see them carrying bodies, pieces, parts that could never be whole again even though they were still friends, lovers and teammates that would continue to live, but no one stopped to turn and see her open eyes.

Her son had been taken through that smoke that saved people. He was one of those pieces that would survive along with everyone else. She didn't care that she wouldn't because she knew he would be taken care of so that he could do the same; he would help preserve the village's future just like his parents had.

Deep in the smoke she began to see new shapes, forms that resembled her son as a grown man with a short boy that she would have been proud to be called grandmother by. It was a future full of love and hope that she knew she wouldn't be a part of. She could see the academy rebuilt for the next generation and her adorable son teaching there. She could see that little boy he took care of becoming one of the greatest Hokages ever known to the village. She could see the strong partner who cried when the inevitable happened and her child finally left the world she had worked so hard to bring him in to.

She knew what was going on around her even though her gaze didn't waver. The rumbles of the earth began giving off a new feeling. Through the fury of the Kyuubi a new feeling broke through, an implacableness that would not be turned, and the smell of water. The fiery winds blew with the strength of feelings. Yondaime was now battling against Kyuubi.

The figures stopped moving to cheer weakly and she wanted to yell at them, scream at them to continue picking up those pieces, that the battle wasn't over yet, that there was still so much more to do, and that she knew her boy would help them; but her voice wouldn't emerge and her sight began to darken.

It wouldn't be until much later that she was found still holding on to what was left of her husband, a remnant that might not have been recognized but for her hand seared around its wrist. The truth wouldn't be told to her son; only that they had both perished in the battle, but a kind soul would tell him that she had been watching and smiling.

owari

A/N: written today because I was reading MeeLee's 'Keeping Score' and kill number two decided to prompt me to write this.


	3. NanoRamen

Sasuke was surprised when his co-worker's coat was missing from the semi-sterile room that morning, even more surprised when h

Sasuke was surprised when his co-worker's coat was missing from the semi-sterile room that morning, even more surprised when he recognized the hideously damaged and taped up old, orange school bag kicked underneath a bench. Had Naruto stayed at the lab all night? He hurried through his cleansing preparations and took a deep breath as the three layers of automatic doors whooshed open in front of him. Sure enough, the familiar mop of blond hair was perking up from the other side of the most comfortable chair in the room, a special order in celebration of a breakthrough some months ago.

He sighed heavily and dropped into the partner of that cushiony chair, soft black suede and mesh with both warming and massaging abilities. Sasuke was quiet for several minutes while he observed Naruto from across their double man desk.

The blond had his feet propped up on the desk crossed at the ankles, accentuating the poof of paper-cloth booties they were forced to wear. His clothes were disheveled and his mouth open just the smallest bit as he peacefully drooled onto his shoulder.

Sasuke took a picture and sent it to his home laptop via cellphone before taking any further action. As he stood to wake his friend in the best way he knew how a blinking light caught his attention. Someone (Naruto) had been messing with the photography equipment. A small pile of pictures laid beside the very expensive taker of micro-objects. After looking at the content of the images he almost swore and took the few steps over to the humongous microscope that shared table space with its dedicated camera. A familiar dish denoting carbon material was still loaded under the lens, and the auto focus was set for Naruto's eyes. Two quick button presses on the touchscreen and Sasuke was removing his glasses to glance at the dish and its contents.

Naruto woke to a loud huffing that might have been laughter or amused frustration. He snorted in waking and shook his head lazily in an attempt to find a more comfortable position for his cramping neck. Seconds later his feet were flung off the desk and Sasuke had grabbed his collar.

"You idiot! What is this?" A thin picture was shoved into his face. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Uh, hehe, Sasuke…" Naruto hastly grabbed at a nearby wrist for support. "You found my surprise," he questioned meekly still half asleep.

"Surprise?"

After a portion of a second as small as the nanos they worked with, Naruto was awake and yammering. He grabbed a sheet torn from the fax machine and waved it at Sasuke.

"A contest, a contest! A micro-photography contest! It's an entry, aren't the pictures great?" The crazy scientist jumped up and ran to the microscope. 'Wasn't it perfect, it's going to win us the grand prize for sure. Who could resist it?"

Sasuke could only blink in silence. He watched as Naruto changed the focusing feature on the microscope and peered in talking all the while.

"I checked online about the previous winners and their things were all boring, embryos and bacteria and stuff, but this is technology at its finest, the creation of tiny art, not just photographing tiny things that occur in nature."

"Naruto…"

"It was sorta hard finishing the details. I wanted to add more, make it easier to recognize, but the noodles were hard enough to get laying down instead of standing straight up. We need ot figure out some color filters for this thing. How can we have a camera with a half a million price tag and no color photo abilities. It doesn't make sense, does it, Sasuke?"

"Naruto…"

"You didn't happen to bring donuts, did you?"

"You spent the entire night awake writing code to make this… this…"

"It's Ramen!"

"You made ramen."

"It's microscopic ramen!"

Sasuke once more looked at the image of the tiny bowl with shards of noodles that he held crumpled in his hand. "Misuse of company equipment," he started.

"But it will win, I'm sure of it," Naruto pleaded.

"You can't bill the time you spent making it."

"Did you see the first prize? We could afford a vacation? We could go to a hot spring!"

Sasuke sat down in his chair and held his head in his hands. "Don't partner up with him, they all told me."

"Who told you that?"

"He's a moron with a one track mind. That phrase was said repeatedly," he flung at his partner.

"Didn't I tell you to stop calling me a moron!"

"You made a microscopic ramen bowl complete with noodles, how much more moronic can you get?" Sasuke looked again at the picture and began to feel rare feelings of humor bubbling up inside.

"Give me a few more days," his partner pleaded as he sat down in his own chair and lifted the screen of his laptop to reveal a program window full of code. "I can add the designs on the side of the bowl, and even some fishcake." Naruto stopped talking when he heard an unfamiliar noise erupt from Sasuke. "Are you, are you laughing?"

A suddenly serious face looked at him with piercing eyes. "You are a moron."

Naruto's dumbfounded response was the rumbling of his stomach. He had the temerity to blush in embarrassment. "Could we continue the argument over breakfast,' he pleaded rubbing his belly. "I kinda skipped midnight snack last night." He stood and made his way to the sliding doors. "I wonder if the lunch cart is already out, I'm feeling like some curry and rice today, or maybe pancakes."

"No ramen," his helpless partner asked while standing to follow.

" I was working on that thing all night," Naruto sighed. "There are limits to my obsession."

"Really," Sasuke deadpanned. "Limits."

He looked back at the image lying on his desk.

"Idiot."

A/N: Just read the link XD You'll understand… It's to a Yahoo news blurb, so no fear... Please remove the very obvious spaces

news./s/ap/ 20080529/aponsc/oddjapansmallestramenbowl; yltApO2P1BOdVpl8qUoeES4tdes0NUE


	4. After

After...

It was too late.

They'd locked him up because he was too dangerous thinking they could still use him.

They'd tried to kill him, but he healed within seconds even from what should have been fatal wounds

They'd tried to move him from his underground prison, but no known wards were strong enough to control him during travel.

The evacuation of the village began when Tsunade announced only thirteen more days left to their waiting.

And now there were only hours. Squadrons of shinobi were standing by after the Kages realized the danger they would soon be in. Entire countries were solemn in their silence as they waited to find out which way death would flow when it began walking on four legs once more.

They didn't wait long.

Afterwards; there was no recounting of names, no numbers or lists of how many. There was only constant screams of lonely agony around a small depression of dead rock. People would leave flowers there, small trinkets and notes. They would all eventually char and burn in that spot of final strength, but they continued knowing that this tragedy would never happen again.

The Mizukage was commonly named as the first death. He had valiantly chosen to attempt the forbidden seal first, but his seared body fell to the ground before he could finish the last seal.

Not one single village complained that they lost more than the others, they were finally united in their utter loss. And for years they celebrated, calmly, all of those deaths that led to the last one. The Mizukage was commonly named as the first death, but no one knew the name of the last one, but they knew it had happened.

It became a tradition, a yearly meeting for the first few years, then changed to every three years; a meeting to remind each Kage, new or old, that they were now bound by innocent blood spilt. The hosting village would display a blade that some say still bled and hand it to the Kage of the village where they would meet next.

It was an unassuming knife; it hadn't even belonged to the one who had wielded it. It was a short tanto, frayed cloth wrapped around its hilt. It had been held out to the man who held the new vessel as it cried, and he had used it to do what everyone knew should have happened the first time. The tiny corpse was the first thing to disappear in the spot that people would come to leave their memories.

No one knew the man who had held the child, no one had even tried to find out. The survivors had all been dirty; their uniforms torn and charred, their weapons dull and squandered on the ground. No one knew who was from what village, or who they should begin hating again. They just knew that no human, no family, no clan, no village or country together could ever hate as much as the being they had just destroyed together.

And they all finally found peace.

end

I blame Swissarmyknife's 23rd chapter of Ripples in an Ocean that prompted me to write this… just kinda had to.


	5. Xmas 2008 Flu Season

I typed this up for Kairukashi's 2008 Christmas challenge in the KakaIru community on Livejournal. If you're a fan and not part of our community, I recommend you go join Asap. we're ahvign lots of fun this month, exactly like we have every month!

Prompt: Flu Season

There was no warning, no instinctive feeling from the Anbu guarding throughout the village, no blaring explosions and badly designed capes this time. The evil crept in unnoticed along with a chuunin back from a messenger mission to the north and wrapped its sticky fingers around them all.

The hospital was inundated within a week. A harsh cold spell hit during midday when everyone was still away from home and their warm hats and scarves. A third of the village was sneezing by midnight staying awake while their fevers rose. The ranks of shinobi were no exception. The healthy succumbed only to infect the recovered once more. The word was sent out early by the ever-constant spies; though Konoha was weak right now, the risk of attacking right then and spreading the infection to their own villages was too much. For one season, they were safer than they ever had been before even if they were all sick.

It was quickly estimated that the village's profits would fall by twenty percent due to the epidemic. The council had called upon Tsunade to do something about the lost wages, but they were too late. Even their Hokage had finally succumbed to the chakra resistant strain. Shizune had been barely able to put her to bed during her own bouts of sickness.

And so the guarded messenger from the council came upon the originator of it all, the only person with experience and finally some slight health enough to accept, deny, and assign what few missions were able to go out. They found the single chuunin that had been cursed by the entire village as they watched their holiday dinners go not only uneaten but unmade since the cooks couldn't leave their beds; Umino Iruka.

He sat behind the Hokage desk with a thermos full of hot tea nearby, constantly refilling his cup with a honey and lemon blend to soothe his throat during his waning weeks of sickness. He had taken one look at the scroll and laughed, then coughed, then laughed again before drinking more tea.

The epidemic went down in the annals of the village as the worst. Rules and preventative measures were put into place to make sure that they were never crippled in such a way again. Anytime after August from the next year on, Snow Country was off limits to any shinobi who hadn't had their flu shot.


	6. The Last Red Pen in the World

This is a small bit of silliness I'm posting a bit belatedly for Valentine's Day to celebrate my OTP, Kakashi and Iruka. I hope you enjoy it.

The Last Red Pen in the World

The stack of graded papers wasn't growing taller, and the teacher grading them was annoyed. He was annoyed both at hos slow pace, the lack of focus his students had shown that week and the fact that two days ago someone had stolen his last red pen.

Umino Iruka did not grade papers in colors other than red.

It had been Tuesday when he'd run out to the small corner store near his apartment late at night. They had red pens, but with roses glued to them. He'd decided to grab some on the way to school the next morning.

Wednesday morning the small supply store had been selling out of anything and everything they had on their counters in red including the basic necessary pens for his grading. That night he glared at the pile that had gotten larger while he slurped his soup. The corner store had sold out of their rose topped during the day.

His Thursday shift at the Mission Desk left him even more upset, not only with the idea that eh had seriously planned on stealing office supplies, but that again there were none to steal. It wasn't possible that the entire village had suddenly come down with a dire need to grade papers in bright ink so Iruka listened carefully to conversations he would usually ignore and found out what was happening.

Valentine's Day was here again. It seemed that the entire village HAD come down with a severe case of needing a red pen to write bad poetry, and they were all anonymously papering the village with their work. He nearly cried at the long sheets of misused ink taped to the wall of his apartment building; a desperate plea for the shy bunny of his hear to lift her crystal orbs and see his beating aura of love. Iruka's perfect grading color was not meant to be used this way.

On Friday he snapped and snarled at everyone asking him if he had written his own amorous ode. They would all have offered their own sacred writing tools, but someone had implanted the idea that you needed to answer your true love's call with your own red pen on their poem of you could figure out which one was for you.

That night made sure to buy food for the next day; the restaurants were bound to be too busy for a single man like himself.

He slept badly; tossing and turning, wondering when this would all die down and he could finally return some graded work. This whole village in love business was keeping him from doing his job. He'd been forced to write notes on mission reports in green!

He hadn't been expecting anything, Iruka had been single for some time. He hadn't even bothered looking for a poem about himself as the wasted red ink would have just made him angrier. But he couldn't help feeling a small thrill when a thin box of white tied off with a velvety red ribbon was lying on his kitchen counter the next morning. Four minutes of figuring out some high level knotwork done on the string and eh was opening his tiny gift.

It was a marvelous thing, thin and perfect; it looked a little worn on the end and the cap had noticeable bitemarks, but the ink ran true when he carefully drew a small spiral. Iruka was so pleased he stopped minding that someone had broken into his apartment. He had a lovely red pen, his work could continue, his life was once more on track after one small action was completed.

* * *

Kakashi didn't normally walk down this particular street, he had no real reason. His house was several blocks away, the restaurants here didn't serve foods he liked and the stores were all copies of things he had closer to home. But it was dark and he was hoping nobody noticed. There was something he needed to retrieve; a small poem stapled to the wood of a light post before noon on Valentine's Day. It was unique in its simplicity since it was strangely done in black ink instead of the color of love that every other page full of undying feelings had been written in. It captivated him immediately.

He had already walked past it fifteen times, stopped to read it five of those, pretended to wonder about this belated posting four times and now during his last walk-by he was going to take it. It belonged to him anyway, he justified his actions with an easy thought.

Thank you so much

To one I know not

The gift I've received

I used quite a lot

If you ever would like

To break in again

My next dearest wish

Is another red pen

The one you gave me ran out of ink while trying to write this.


	7. Adding the Names

This story was written before we knew, before ch.449 happened, back when I was sure we were going to be saying goodbye to our beloved Copy-nin. This doesn't mean it doesn't get posted, though.

So, WARNINGS! KakaIru AU as if Nagato had never brought them all back and the dead had stayed dead.

* * *

Adding the Names

People never asked him why he wasn't at the funeral; they kept their thoughts on the situation to themselves and didn't blame him at all. It was a shinobi's life to live the way he knew he needed to, and in the end they all knew how little those actions truly meant.

There were a few people who knew, Naruto for one. He stood in front of the pictures with tears pouring down his cheeks for his old sensei, both the living and the dead ones. It had been a month since the attack, a hard month of frustrated rebuilding and then gawking as their tired Hokage stood before them all with her wrinkled face and spoke.

"This is where Konoha once stood," she pointed to the dirt below her feet. "This is where Konoha will stand again. We have lived and died for this village. We will continue." She had laid the first flower on the table erected to hold pictures, too many of them.

When it was done they dispersed back to their assigned tasks. Some had missions to bring revenue back to the village; some worked on the village itself since there was nothing else to do while awake. Some went back to sleep. The number of people still healing kept the medics busy and tired, but finally broken bones could be immediately mended once more. Health had returned to the village in its own small way.

Iruka didn't regret not being at the funeral, not hearing the stirring words of the Hokage or seeing how many flowers covered the pictures. He knew they were wildflowers picked from an undisturbed field. There weren't any formal flower shops anymore to provide funerary carnations or specialty roses. He'd seen the shinobi going out that morning with large baskets ready to be filled with cheerful colors that would be burned in remembrance. The bodies had already been disposed of for health reasons.

He'd been awake all night waiting and remained so into the afternoon after the funeral had occurred. He saw people come and go to pay their respects never saying a word to him until finally one old man trotted up with a small work basket in hand.

"I'll ask you to leave," he said politely with a somber face. "Things need to be done."

Iruka stood, but shook his head. "Don't worry about me, I'm only here for…" He looked at the basket and silently stared at the paper stencils within, the variety of fine and finer chisels. "I wanted to help."

"It's not customary," the old man said and turned away. "But far be it from me to say no to an extra pair of hands."

They worked together, Iruka holding and watching, handing and quietly nodding. The mason chiseled and shaped, chipped and scarred the smooth face of the Heroes Monument adding more to its already heavy load. Finally it was time. Iruka handed one more stencil to him with three more to go, but asked a question.

"May I do this one?"

"I would say yes," the old man said regretfully. "But they must be uniform. Hold it still." He placed the corners carefully and made a careful scar.

Iruka held still, his fingers digging into the stone and paper beneath their tips. He closed his eyes and listened only opening them to hand over a different tool. Then his lids would slide down and the scraping sounded again as the name was written, permanently scarred into both the stone and his heart.

His eyes were open for the last three names added, and then they were done. The old man stared at him, solemn as he had been at the beginning. "Not many can stand that," he mentioned while wiping his tools down. "There's a strength in you, son." He handed over a small slip of tough paper. "You can keep it if you want."

Iruka looked from the used stencil complete with scar marks to the pristine stone it had laid against. He hesitated.

"I normally burn them," the old man urged. "I figure one thing can go a bit beyond uniform today."

He nodded in acceptance and took the offered piece of paper. "Thank you."

"It doesn't much matter maybe," the mason went on, "that you'll be the first to say hello to him here. What matters is that he'll be here when you need him."

Iruka could only nod, immediately understanding the double edge to those words. He tucked the stencil into a safe pocket and bowed slightly. His was returned and the old man left.

He turned away from the departing figure to stand before the massive stone. He knelt, head bowed and touched the ground at his knees. It took him some time before he could speak.

"Father, Mother, Kakashi; please watch over us all."


End file.
